


Instances

by StrangeMischief



Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Light Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-28
Updated: 2019-03-28
Packaged: 2020-10-26 10:47:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20740961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StrangeMischief/pseuds/StrangeMischief
Summary: Time had moved on, Stephen realizedHe should too.





	Instances

**Author's Note:**

> As always, enjoy :3

_ Instances _

If there was one thing Stephen Strange understood, it was time.

Time was fleeting. Time was deceitful. Time was uncaring. But above all, and often of least note, was that time waited for no one and nothing.

Including him.

\---

The room was large, dimly light, and pulsed with the thrum of music. For the couple hundred of intoxicated twenty-somethings in the room that was more than enough to keep the party going well into the night.

Stephen took one more swing of liquid courage before weaving his way through the throng of sweaty, grinding bodies, gaze never straying from the figure he’d been eyeing at the bar. He’d introduce himself. He’d ask to dance. Two steps. Easy.

As he drew closer to the man’s barstool, the subject of his fascination turned, and…_oh. _Stephen never knew such eyes. There were brown in color, but _brown _could never do them justice. They were sweet caramel apples, homemade fudge, and freshly brewed coffee. They held a warmth that encased Stephen the moment they settled on him and sparkled with mirth as Stephen continued to flounder, speechless, in front of the stranger.

“Hi,” the brunet greeted, a crooked grin crossing his youthful face.

Stephen jerked, the roar of heavy bass flooding his ears. “Hi,” he replied breathlessly. “I’m-”

“Tony!” a slurred voice interrupted as lithe fingers curled around the man’s shoulder. “Our song is playing!”

“Is it?” Tony asked, seeming truly taken off guard as he was dragged away to the dancefloor.

Stephen sighed and waved down the bartender. Maybe he’d have another chance later, he was sure of it. The night was young, and so was he.

There was time.

\---

Tony was in the newspapers. His face was splashed across magazines. He gave speeches on live TV. He built a business, hosted million-dollar parties, and sailed around the world on yachts. He disappeared in the haze of the desert and reemerged as Iron Man.

Stephen watched from a distance, trying to shake off the way his heart seized each time he passed a newsstand or flipped on the TV and saw those entrancing eyes.

\---

It was quite possibly the end of the world and time was of the essence, but Stephen still faltered when he stepped through that portal into Central Park, and Tony turned at the call of his name.

\---

Tony. Tony. Tony.

Millions upon millions of futures and so many of them had _Tony. _Tony crying on a spacecraft’s floor. Tony laughing as Stephen knocked him into a pile of leaves. Tony brushing snow out of Pepper’s silver-streaked hair. Tony kissing Stephen’s cheek before slipping out the door. Tony dying, over and over and over again, so Peter, so Pepper, so Stephen, so _everyone _could live.

Tony was everywhere. And when Stephen snapped back to reality, and Tony was mere inches from his face, Stephen was tempted, _oh so tempted, _to tell him everything. To use up that one moment to tell Tony about leaves and cheek kisses.

But now wasn’t the time for that. Now was when they had to deal with Thanos. Now was when Stephen had to make sure Tony _lived._

Later, he’d tell him. Later, there’d be time.

\---

Stephen opened his eyes with a sharp shriek, the feeling of his body slamming back into existence similar to slamming into concrete.

Tony ran through the Compound’s overgrown grass with more agility than a man bleeding as heavily as he was should have been capable of. Stephen sat up quickly, ready to run and apply pressure to the wound, but Tony ran right past him and hauled a gasping Peter off the ground and into a bone-crushing hug. He carded a bloodied hand through Peter’s wavy caramel hair as the teen sobbed heavily, apologizing and asking where his aunt was.

Stephen stood and brushed the grass from his robes and backed away from the pair, not wanting to interrupt their tearful reunion. Instead, he slid on his sling ring and slipped through a spinning portal pack to the Sanctum.

There was much he wanted to say to Tony but now was not the time. It’d wait until another day, another time.

\---

Tony spun Pepper around in his arms, those delightful chocolate, fudge, expresso eyes shining with unabashed joy. The couple had recovered from their falling out and had quickly dropped back into the roles of ecstatic soon-to-be-newlyweds.

Stephen sighed and busied himself with tracing the rim of his champagne glass. Perhaps there was still a chance. He’d just have to wait for the opportunity to present itself later.

Perhaps he still had time.

\---

“Look at him, Stephen!” Tony declared proudly, hoisting the infant high in the air the moment he entered the Sanctum. Pepper made a worried sound and swatted Tony’s shoulder, taking her son from his grasp with an eye-roll.

“I’m looking,” Stephen replied dryly, before offering Pepper a friendly nod. “Inherited his mother’s looks, I see.”

Tony beamed and gently brushed the back of his knuckle across the infant’s cheek. “He’s the best thing I ever made.”

Wong snorted, and Pepper claimed he only contributed, “At most, twelve percent,” while Stephen watched the scene unfold pensively.

There was no more time left.

\---

Pepper made Stephen and Wong sugar cookies, the children decorated them, and Tony delivered them with the Stark family Christmas card.

“Morgan tried to make this one look like your cape,” Tony laughed, sneaking said cookie from the tray and biting the tip off. “A perfectionist, that one. Cried when it came out looking like a bedsheet.” He grabbed a spare magnet and stuck the Christmas card to the fridge before opening it to grab the carton of milk. “If there are any shaped like snowmen _don’t _eat them. Maria liked them all. I tried to pick them out, but all the cookies have so much icing on them it’s hard to tell what’s what anymo-”

Tony trailed off, taking in the sight of Stephen leaning against the kitchen counter, a wistful smile on his lips. “Are you okay there, Stephen?”

“You’re happy,” Stephen replied, dropping his chin onto his fist.

Tony’s chewed his cookie thoughtfully, unsure if it was a question or an observation. “I am,” he agreed with a bright grin. “I’m happy.”

Stephen nodded and took a Santa cookie iced in Iron Man colors from the tray. “Good.”

\---

Time had moved on, Stephen realized.

He should too.


End file.
